The Sign
I wake to find a scene unkind,
on vessel I do stand.
Adrift at sea, lost, scared and cold,
in desperate need of land.
“Why am I here? Where should I turn?”
“Which course should I set sail?”
I try to keep myself composed,
but all my senses fail.
Rotating, searching, looking out,
no means to know the way.
And so, I drift with every wind
more helpless day by day.
“Shall this continue endlessly?”
“Shall sea become despair?”
“A purpose there must surely be,
a course to chart... but where?”
Then pausing, pondering, opening up,
a prompting, “Look above”.
In distant sky, a wisp of white,
a sign of hope– a dove.
“Set sail!”, my heart cries. “Follow thence
until you reach the shore.”
Yet speed I’ve not. I fall behind.
The sign I see no more.
But all’s not lost. The way I know,
if to this course I’m true,
then home I shall be once again...
my mansion built anew.
